Withdrawal
by NexusTehULF0o
Summary: Love remains a drug that's the high and not the pill. Oneshot. Post-S5 Finale.


**Title: Withdrawal**

**Author: NexustehULF0o**

**Description: Love remains a drug that's the high and not the pill. Oneshot. Post-S5 Finale. **

**Rating: K**

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BONES. I love it, but alas, it is not mine. I also DO NOT OWN ANYTHING CREATED, WRITTEN, OR RECORDED BY SEAL. Great song, though.**

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**Nexus: So, I was on my way home from watching fireworks on the Fourth of July (for you Americans out there :D) and a certain song that reminded me of Bones came over my phone speakers as I was listening to my songs. It inspired me enough to write this little thing in order to fill the void, so-to-speak. Enjoy! :3**

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Temperance Brennan crawled into her small, stiff little cot and pulled her thin blanket over her head.

The tents at the digging site in the Maluku Islands that she was currently attending had a certain rugged quality that anyone would find invigorating, but still left much to be desired. One was to share a tent with one other person – in her case, a certain Miss Daisy Wick – and sleep on tightly-fit cots in the raw humidity.

She wasn't complaining though. The peace and quiet almost rid her of those thoughts. Normally, Miss Wick would keep her up for _hours _after Temperance turned the oil lamp down to a mere flicker, jabbering on about something she found recently or something someone told her about the culture of Indonesians.

Today had been a long, tiring day in the sun. Daisy had been in the tent and already fast asleep when Brennan first entered. Miss Wick was, as Booth might say, "asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow."

She turned over and made herself awkwardly comfortable once more. Of course she knew it was a hyperbole – the force of your head physically hitting the pillow would be too much for one to sleep through. One would simply have to be knocked out for such a thing to happen. But, as Booth also said, it was just a saying.

The cot creaked loudly as she adjusted the thin blanket on top of her, keeping her head safely tucked beneath it. She heaved a sigh and slid her eyes shut.

_Tip. _

Something small hit the outside of the tent, causing her to open her eyes once more.

_Tip. Tip. Tip._

More fell faster and a flash of light soared across the sky –a thunderstorm. They came often, but never for long. Brennan pulled her arms close to her face to keep the flashes of light from her eyes. She couldn't sleep unless in complete darkness.

Thunder boomed in the distance.

Or complete silence.

She sighed heavily, reaching a sitting position. She was thinking too much; something she often did since her departure from Washington D.C. She would sit there for hours, having arguments with herself about important and trivial things alike – all of it ultimately resolving nothing.

Her eyes wandered over to the purse-like knapsack at her bedside. She loosened the drawstring and reached inside, pulling out a long, sleek music-playing device and the set of headphones that went along with it moments after. What was it called again? It started with an I…she remembered Angela becoming enamored with it when she accompanied her to a shopping center one afternoon. Intrigued, Brennan purchased one, hoping it might relinquish some sort of venue into today's culture.

Needless to say, it hadn't done what she'd hoped it would, but it did store all of her contacts and songs – even a trivial game Booth installed on it and played while they were waiting on case information or when she happened to be driving the car. She never played it herself – what was the appeal of hitting penguins with baseball bats? - but she was rather interested in the technological aspect.

Right now, she hoped it would calm her, possibly soothe her to an intermingling sleep-like status…she finagled with the buds in her ears as lightning struck around the campsite in almost decided intervals, while rain continued to pour and sprinkle in waves.

Her thumb lightly brushed the play button and Temperance closed her eyes, easing her head back onto the pillow once more. The dulcet tones of "Claire de Lune" by Debussy wafted slowly and euphonically into her ears, lulling her mind into a semi-comatose state. Her mind flowed up and down with the swells from the following pieces of music – strings and brass, winds and percussion…her mind drifted along with the crescendos and decrescendos…

The soft, slow harmonization of a human voice snapped her out of her trance, the following introductory oboe solo abruptly pulling her to alertness again.

_There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea_

_You became the light on the dark side of me_

_Love remains a drug that's the high and not the pill_

_But did you know_

_That when it snows_

_My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?_

She turned over.

Memories flooded into her brain. The car. The reunion.

_Seal. _

Normally, she and Booth didn't listen to the radio on their way to crime scenes or to the diner or well, anywhere. Why he'd decided to turn it on that day, she didn't know. It was some mix station that played from the repeated driving beats of hip-hop to the strong, wild guitar rifts of hardcore rock…she remembered listening to a few of them amongst the DJ's insipid shouting and the humming of commercials for local as well as worldwide businesses.

But then there was unfamiliar, yet pleasant harmonization. The oboe made its way through the car speakers, and Brennan was instantly calm, as if all of her stress and worry had drained out of her all in one instant. Of course, she knew it was physically impossible to drain something metaphoric from the human body, and certainly not in one instant, but…

_Baby_

_I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray_

_Oooh, the more I get of you_

_The stranger it feels, yeah…_

Booth must have seen her relax. He smirked playfully and glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road.

"Hey Bones, you like this song?" He asked, leaning his elbow against the driver's side armrest.

"Mmmh?" She replied, dazed, before looking slowly over at him.

"It's Seal." He told her, turning the volume a little louder from the console between them. "`S called 'Kiss From a Rose.' God, I remember when this song first came out…" He ran his fingers through his gelled dark brown hair.

Seal. Kiss From a Rose.

What an appropriate name for such a timid, yet powerful song. She smiled softly as the gentle tones continued on…

Now that your rose is in bloom A light hits the gloom on the gray

The oboe filled in the gap once more and harmony overlapped it…she'd felt happier and more at piece than she had in a while…

But, in the rain in Indonesia, it was only bringing tears to her eyes. Her legs crunched closer to her as her body racked itself with uncontrollable sobs, the musical interlude continuing on behind her as she attempted to calm herself.

_There is so much a man can tell you_

_So much he can say_

_You remain_

_My power_

_My pleasure_

_My pain_

They'd been talking about the murder while dancing during her high school reunion when the song came on. She'd smiled when she heard it, feeling the familiar warmth rush through her. He'd mentioned that they should probably go – and he was right, they should have gone – but a part of her, and she decided that this part was dominant, told her to stay. Move along with the music. She pleaded him – "Just one more dance," she said, "Come on, it's Seal."

He reluctantly agreed.

_Baby_

_To me, you're like a grown addiction that I can't deny, yeah_

_Won't you tell me it's not healthy, babe?_

He held them at arm's length – she felt wrong, which was wrong, because when she was with Booth, everything always felt strangely right. She asked him, and he sheepishly replied with some Biblical reference that she didn't understand.

_But did you know_

_That when it snows_

_My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?_

To their surprise, shimmering silver stars descended from the ceiling, twinkling brightly among the lights. They both looked up for a moment to admire them – she smiled warmly before returning her eyes to him. He looked over at her, cracking a smile himself.

"This is like the prom I never got to go to." She sighed softly, eyes distracted by the decorations but always returning to him. Booth's smile widened a bit.

_Baby_

_I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray_

_Oooh, the more I get of you_

_The stranger it feels, yeah_

_Now that your rose is in bloom _

_A light hits the gloom on the gray_

Suddenly, she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him and fitting her head in the crevice between his shoulder and his neck.

Surprised at first, Booth's body stiffened, causing her to as well. But, after a few moments, he settled his hands comfortably about her waist, resting his head on her shoulder before continuing their soft slow dance sway.

Brennan slid her eyes shut as she felt him contentedly breathe air out of his nose.

_This, _she thought, _feels more like what's right to me._

The two continued their slow-dance rocking as the song continued on, both minds thinking as two people, but simultaneously as one.

_I've been kissed by a rose on the gray_

_I've been kissed by a rose_

Why only now did she realize how self-centered she had been? Booth was hurting. She had rejected him – told him that she couldn't change who she was, and then, almost immediately after that, expected him to act like nothing ever happened at all. She had wrapped her arms around him and expected him to slow dance with her. She had expected everything to go back to the way it had been. Why was she so cruel? Why hadn't she realized this sooner? She would have saved them both pain – his earlier, and hers now.

Hot tears streaked her face as she took in an unstable breath, holding the music player close to her lips. She blinked heavily, using her sleeve to momentarily dry her eyes.

_If I should fall…_

She missed him every moment, but didn't expect him to do the same. He probably found someone over in Afghanistan – some blonde journalist or something – and was talking and bonding with her the way that they did. She hated that. That was theirs. Booth even said it.

The tears stung in her eyes to remember.

_What goes on between us is ours. _He'd told her quietly, his eyes carefully interlocking with hers.

It just hurt too much to even think about the possibility of losing her one rock – her solid in her world of uncertainties.

She couldn't imagine a world where Booth wasn't hers alone.

_There is so much a man can tell you_

_ So much he can say_

_You remain_

_My power_

_My pleasure_

_My pain_

She turned over so she cried softly into her pillow. Recently, she had been hearing Ms. Wick's normally still form shifting in her cot when she was crying, leading Brennan to believe that she was somehow hearing her stifled sobs.

Temperance wasn't one for psychology – she made it clear to everyone she met that she hated it – but she noticed that Daisy's questions seemed to be becoming more personal lately, asking about Booth's e-mails, or if she missed any of her colleagues at the Jeffersonian…it was highly possible that Daisy had been hearing her cry at night, and had been discreetly been attempting to figure out why. Although seemingly out of character for Ms. Wick, it was possible, so Brennan turned to crying into her pillow when trying to be quiet became too hard. The pillow muffled her staggered, erratic breathing and disconsolate moans, luring Daisy back to sleep.

Oh, how she wished he would simply come through the flaps of the tent, soaking wet from the rain, kneel at her bedside, and quietly wipe the tears from her eyes. He would flash her a warm, reassuring smile, his eyes a warm dark brown in the gas lamp she would think about, then refrain from lighting. He would squeeze in next to her in the uncomfortable cot, and wrap his arms around her. She would cry loudly into his chest as the rain droned on, immensely, uncontrollably happy but also inconsolably sad in the same instant.

She remembered thinking about adding something to this effect in one of the more intimate moments of her books, but decided against it, due to the pain that settled in her chest whenever she thought about it.

Regardless, she needed him.

More than anyone should ever need another person.

More than she ever thought she would ever need anyone.

She needed Seeley Booth.

_Baby _

_To me, you're like a grown addiction that I can't deny, yeah _

_Won't you tell me it's not healthy, babe?_

_ But did you know_

_That when it snows_

_My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?_

It may have only seemed like rain, but to Temperance Brennan, her world was coming down around her. As it had every night, rain or no rain.

Logic wouldn't get her out of this one. Excuses aside, she loved him. She couldn't escape it, no matter how hard she tried.

And boy had she tried – even hard enough to openly reject him.

But no more. She loved him.

And she couldn't hide it either. This wasn't something she was going to torture herself over. She needed to tell him now. Before the blonde journalists. Before she had to give him up.

Should she tell him through e-mail…? No. Too impersonal. Love was new to her, but even that felt distant. She had to call him. Now.

She threw the blanket off of her and quickly took a moment to look around the tent. She wiped her eyes quickly with her arm before leaning over and snatching her phone out of her bag. What was that number he told her to call if they needed to talk…? She had no idea what time it was over there, and…

She hurriedly punched the numbers into her cell phone after quickly ripping the earphones out of her ears. She stood and walked out into the rain, regardless of how wet she was getting, pressing the green button in the corner. With a sniveling intake of breath, she heard the first ring – it was only a matter of time.

The second ring caused her to move slightly, her heart tightening in her chest. It was all right if he didn't pick up. Maybe it was better if she hadn't have called.

The third ring had her worried. What if he didn't pick up? Would she wait until morning? She couldn't…she couldn't think about that.

She heard laughing.

"_Ahahaha…Hannah! Stop that! Hahaha, stop, really! That tickles, come on!" _

It was muffled and faraway-sounding – but she heard it.

"_Seeley Booth." _

His voice came over the receiver loud and clear. She said nothing.

"_Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?" _

She remained silent, wondering.

Quietly, she hung up the phone.

She missed her chance. Missed it by so little, but so much.

And there was no longer anything she could do about it.

She returned miserably to the tent, where Daisy had awoken at the noisy rustling of her bag. Brennan heard something along the lines of "What are you doing awake?" before she angrily threw the music player and her cell phone in the direction of her bag.

"Doctor Brennan?" Daisy asked worriedly.

She disregarded it and fell back into bed, covering her head with her blanket and burrowing her face in her pillow once more.

Hitting the ground had cracked the screen of the music player, but the music was still playing, and as Daisy reluctantly turned over and attempted to fall asleep once more, one could almost hear the final words playing over the small earphones…

_Now that your rose is in bloom…_

_A light hits the gloom…_

…_on the…_

…_gray…_

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**Nexus: Yeah, this turned a little more angst!Brennan than I would have liked…but you know, it shows the reality of things. Brennan broke his heart, and Hart is breaking ours with Hannah . Sad day. Any way, I know this will please one person – Danielle. Here. This ending's for you. XD Anyway…tell me what you think. Reviews are appreciated!**


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